Edited by: Mihir Khanna
In the bustling heart of this university, a young woman embarked on a journey—one seemingly mundane yet symbolic. Her mission was clear: to find a product—a particular product—that she couldn’t find anywhere else, and this shop was her last resort.
Weary from the exhaustive search that had taken her from one corner of her university to another, the young woman approached the shop with a flicker of hope, which was already dimmed by the disillusionment of countless fruitless endeavours. Tired and a bit fed up with the wild goose chase, she figured, “Why not give it one last try?” but deep down, she had already braced herself for another letdown.
It also wasn’t just any old thing she was looking for; it was rare, one-of-a-kind, and totally irreplaceable—kind of like those little echoes of an old flame that just stick around in your heart, you know?
Clutching a photograph that captured not just a face but an era now past, the woman roamed, treating it like a treasure map to something long gone, something truly irreplaceable. It was more about chasing a memory wrapped up in a smile from back in the day than anything else.
“I’ve been looking for this everywhere,” she said, showing the shopkeeper the photograph, her voice a mix of determination and wistful longing. “It belonged to me for two years, and I can’t seem to find it anywhere else, not even online. I’ve tried every website, even Tinder and Bumble. I just can’t find this exact product.”
The shopkeeper, a seasoned navigator of human desires and whims, accepted the challenge with a blend of curiosity and amusement.
He guided her through rows of stuff that looked the part. They mirrored her quest in form but not in essence. Everything he showed her felt like a hopeful date trying to impress, not knowing her heart was already hung up on someone else.
“There’s this one,” he would say, showcasing an item with features reminiscent of her cherished product. “It’s been quite popular with our customers.”
One item bore the right colour but not the texture; another bore the correct form but not the essence. Each conversation with the shopkeeper and each examination of a potential replacement was tinged with a repulsion she couldn’t quite place. Was it the too-glossy finish, the slight variance in appearance, or perhaps the absence of a familiar imperfection?
Girl: “So, you really think you’ve got what it takes to fill the spot?”
Suitor: “Absolutely. I mean, I’ve got all the qualities you’re looking for, right?”
Girl: [Sceptically] “Hmm, on the surface, maybe. But it’s the little things, you know? Like, can you make me laugh when I’ve had the worst day?”
Suitor: “Well, I’ve got a tonne of jokes up my sleeve. Heard the one about the—”
Girl: [Interrupting] “It’s not just about the jokes, though. It’s about understanding why I’m having a bad day without having to spell it out.”
Suitor: “I get that; I really do. I’m a great listener. Tell me about your day, and I’ll prove it.”
Girl: “See, it’s not about the day. It’s about the connection. Like, can you just know when I need space or when I need you to be there without me saying anything?”
Suitor: [Trying to reassure] “I’m sure with time, I could get a feel for that kind of thing.”
Girl: [Shaking her head] “It’s not something you ‘get a feel for’ over time. It’s either there or it’s not. Thanks for trying, though.”
She turns away, already looking for something more—something that just can’t be explained.
As the day turned to dusk, the woman headed to her dorm, her mind replaying the day’s odd adventures and chats. With each step, it hit her more and more that this whole hunt wasn’t really about finding a stand-in for what she’d lost but about facing up to the fact that some things are just one-of-a-kind.
Back in her own cosy corner, she settled into the quiet, feeling surprisingly okay with being on her own.
It was time to let go of that almost-perfect thing that had been, giving it a nod for the good times but not letting it tie her down anymore.
She left a mark that was not meant to be covered up but remembered and respected as she moved on to what lay ahead.
It was hard, but she knew what she ultimately had to do. She needed to let it die with the dignity that it deserved.